


a walk in the dungeon

by saraheli



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff and Angst, Gryffindor Younghyun, M/M, Ravenclaw Jaehyung
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraheli/pseuds/saraheli
Summary: Younghyun had never been interested in guys; only girls, sports, and success. When, however, his gaze clings to Jaehyung’s lips and his ears to the song of his voice, Younghyun is thrown for a loop. He refuses to let some stupid (not) crush get in his way, but something about the other boy gets the best of him.





	a walk in the dungeon

Year seven is supposed to be fun. It’s your last year, it’s the last time you get to fuck around with your peers with relatively low consequences, it’s the last time you have to explore the castle and deface the historical meanings behind the corridors with the most heinous acts your wretched little mind can think of. Year seven is supposed to be parties in the forest and getting wasted after every exam and Quidditch match.

So why the  _hell_ was Younghyun wasting his time in arithmancy study lab?

He was failing, that’s why, but Younghyun couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t someone to just blow off his work or not try, despite his outward appearance and stereotypical Gryffindor-esque hobbies; he took school seriously and he was more than a little jaded that his grades weren’t reflecting his effort, so, he had to know what was going wrong.

The lab was held in one of the empty classrooms near the library. It was one of the few with multiple massive windows, forcing the room to be filled with the shockingly cheerful light of Friday afternoon. The desks were lined up in rows before a chalkboard where someone sat on a stool at the front with his nose in a book. The desks weren’t all empty, but those that were occupied were not near one another as each student clearly wanted their own privacy as they worked on their own projects, and Younghyun was no different.

He selected an aisle seat in the very back of the room in the direct pathway of the outdoor warmth, hoping that it would make him forget how lame he felt in being here. He got out his parchment and quills and books and looked to the front, expecting to see his professor. But, of course, as his luck so frequently reflected, the one day he showed up for help, the professor wasn’t even there, and the lab was run by the teaching assistant.

Younghyun had met Jaehyung before, they had been in school together for seven years, after all, and he had only ever heard good things about him. He was sweet, funny, and intellectually unbeatable—typical, and, on top of all of that, Younghyun could hardly deny how attractive he found him. The way his glasses hung on his nose and the way his teeth tortured his lower lip as he read his book made Younghyun lose his breath before doing his best to fill his head with something else.

Uncomfortably, after finding the assignment, he approached the front of the room. His mouth was already filled with the sarcastic and frustrated remarks he wanted to make about his grade on this assignment, but they were dissolved unsaid on his tongue when Jaehyung met his eyes with a smile.

“Can I help you with something? You’re—”

“Kang Younghyun,” he interrupted, “I’m in top level—”  
“Yeah, I know, we’re in the same class, I assist your professor,” Jaehyung interrupted in return, his speech slow, but not condescending in the slightest. He smiled.

_Nice job, asshole._

“Right, yeah,” Younghyun cleared his throat, “Sorry, of course, you are.”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyung chuckled, “What do you need?”

* * *

Younghyun didn’t think about arithmancy once in the time that spanned between the lab and his next class. He had a one-track mind. As soon as a goal, in this case, fixing his arithmancy marks, was completed, it was shoved into the dark corners of his mind. Out of sight, out of mind, or, in Younghyun’s case, out of rewards, out of mind. He was too busy letting himself forget about the whole world via the distracting properties of alcohol and reckless casting in the courtyard. He blocked school and responsibility from his mind; if he didn’t, he knew he would go crazy. He blocked the images of the top-level-boy and you’re-trying-too-hard. He blocked out everything but the feeling of laughter and the air against his skin as he flew and the honey of unfamiliar lips.

Younghyun was an idea that had been trapped in the castle. This person was the sky.

But, of course, this illusion came to a screeching halt on Monday morning when classes resumed. Younghyun was exhausted, hungover, and starving, but he was also late for his potions double-period and he would rather die than get out of bed. A strange feeling came over him as he wondered when he became so desperate for fun that he let it seep into the rest of his week and taint what he worked for. However, a pounding headache sent this thought to the wayside.

“Dude,” one of the other boys, Sungjin, tossed Younghyun’s sweatshirt at him, “Stop dragging your ass and get up.” When Younghyun merely groaned in response, the boy came over and whipped the covers off his friend’s body. “Come on. It’s your own fault for fucking around last night.”

He cleared his throat. “I know. I’ll be up in a second.”

And he was.

He dressed and sloppily did his hair and, despite wanting to shove as much bread into his mouth as would fit to soak up something of nausea he was feeling, skipped breakfast to make it to class on time. He had trouble focusing and his stomach kept noisily complaining beneath his desk, but, ultimately, he was glad he had gone. He made proficient marks for his potion and left the class feeling satisfied with himself if not totally peckish.

“Oh, hey, sorry about that!”

Younghyun coughed when he ran into someone, barely looking to them to apologize when he heard that voice. It was smooth and yellow with cheerfulness. It made Younghyun do a double take despite his buddy continuing on in the crowd without him.

“Are you alright?”

Jaehyung peered up at him amidst the bustling hallway and Younghyun found his cheeks warming in an embarrassment uncharacteristic of himself as he nodded and awkwardly cleared his throat.

“You…um, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, you look a little pale—oh! Here,” he dug around in his pocket for a moment before conjuring up a croissant wrapped in a few napkins. “You might have low blood sugar or something.”

“Hey, you have arithmancy now, don’t you?” Jae’s face brightened when he smiled warmly, “I’ll walk you, make sure you don’t pass out and all that—”

“I’m fine, you really don’t have to—”

“Did you already forget? I’m going there anyway,” Jaehyung chuckled and turned so that he could walk beside Younghyun, “Also,” he popped a piece of chewing gum into his mouth, “it’s rude to interrupt people. You should really stop doing it.”

The oddest part about walking with Jaehyung was that, in spite of never having spoken prior to their session together the week before, the boy seemed to have an endless supply of things to say, and if Younghyun had been an ounce less patient, he would have ripped his own head off. The weather, the architecture, the upcoming assignments in his courses; he had no shortage of topics, and, he had equally as many questions for his new companion: “Do you enjoy Quidditch?” “Where are you from?” “What do you think you’ll do after you graduate? I can’t even imagine not being a student—I think I might be a professor!” “Have you ever been to America? I hear it’s a weird place.”

The change from talking about girls or what parties were happening this weekend or the plays in the last match or even how stupid and horrible the assignments were was welcome. Younghyun felt out of place, but not uncomfortable and, as they came upon the classroom, he found himself hoping to see the other boy again soon.

* * *

“Park Jaehyung?” Younghyun’s friend Sim looked up from his parchment, his scribbly writing coming to a halt, “Like, blond hair, know-it-all, stick-up-the-ass Park Jaehyung?”

Younghyun furrowed his eyebrows, “Stick? I don’t know anything about that. He seemed normal to me.”

“Well, if you want to have fun at a party, a good rule of thumb is to not let him tag along with you. He’s totally clueless. Can’t talk to girls, can’t hold a drink, or, at least that’s what it was like. The guy’s funny, don’t get me wrong, he is a riot, and he’s smart as all get out, but, I just don’t know if he’s out to have a good time when he goes out.” He chuckled. “But, um, what about him again?”

“I don’t know, I guess I was just curious about what he’s like. You’re an honors guy, too, so I figured you might know.”

“Um,” Sim shrugged and looked back down at his work, “I mean, I see him twice a week at those Prefect meetings and I know he’s your PA,” he gestured to Younghyun without looking up, “but I don’t know much about him. Besides being bad at parties. Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged and let out a breath as he licked the end of his quill. “Just curious. I’ve seen him twice in the past four days, which is more often than I speak to my parents, so I just figured I should know something about him.” He said dismissively.

Sim just hummed to signify that he was listening as he worked, but Younghyun didn’t want to say anymore, not to Sim anyway. In all honesty, Younghyun wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted to know anything about Jae. It wasn’t like they were friends or working together; but instead, simply spoken all of two times. Younghyun felt odd, wondering if he was reading too far into his own behavior, but ultimately decided to ignore it with the excuse of getting his work done.


End file.
